


You're Right, They Don't See the Difference Between You and Me

by Bittodeath



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Compliant, Death, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, M/M, nsfw-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Charles' death, Billy tries not to break down. But memories come back to him, as he tried to understand what they had and how it came to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Right, They Don't See the Difference Between You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I started it a while ago and I had planned on making this longer than it actually is, but I was stuck and. Well. I just wanted to finish it without screwing up everything.

_« Until then I shall remain Long John Silver. »_

Billy stared at his letter. Stopped his trembling hands. Closed his eyes. Hold it. Hold it. Don’t break down. Just don’t. He breathed in deeply, laid a hand on his nape. Stroke his scalp. Put everything behind. Don’t break down.

He stood up, paced around the room. His fingers brushed a tea cup. It reminded him of those rough fingers holding the delicate, tiny thing and asking what it could be needed for. Hold it in.

He took a few more steps. Stopped. Don’t break down. Leaned against the wall, a lump in his throat. Don’t break down. Clenched his fist in the fabric of his shirt. Don’t. Break. Down.

The memories flooded in.

 

Billy was sitting on the beach, looking around and registering everyone’s actions. Knowing how people acted and reacted had always seemed both fascinating and necessary to him. After Flint’s rescue by Vane in Charlestown, he felt it even deeper, like a scorching need. He needed to know the men around him. He felt lost when he didn’t, and even more when they didn’t act like themselves.

“Billy Bones”, a voice said, insisting on the consonants of his name, “look at you, Flint’s proud quarter-master.”

He looked up: Charles Vane was towering over him, a bottle in hand. The pirate captain smiled and half-sat, half-collapsed next to him. Billy tensed – Vane was a dangerous man and he was not stupid enough to be relaxed around him. He stared at him from the corner of his eyes: Vane was a bit tipsy, which meant he had already drunk quite a lot. Double reasons to be careful around him. His hand suddenly clapped over Billy’s shoulder and he managed to control himself not to jolt. God was he nervous. He looked away. Don’t look. Don’t stare. He’s a pirate. He’s a captain. For fuck’s sake, Billy, this is Charles Vane, don’t look at him like he is some potential prey of yours. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard.

“Why don’t you join my crew? I need men like you, Billy. Courageous. Strong. You’re literate, are you not?”

Billy nodded. His fingernails were digging red crescents into his palms. Vane leaned closer.

“Think about it. I’m not like Flint.”

He shivered when his hot breath brushed his ear, goose-bumps on his arms.

“I don’t know if that a good thing”, he replied in a low voice.

Charles laughed.

“You’re a wise man, Billy Bones. Perhaps too wise for your own good.”

Unconsciously, Billy had pulled away. He stopped dead in his tracks when the captain clutched his arm, hard enough that it hurt. He looked up and stared at Vane: his eyes were fierce and ferocious, not hazed by the alcohol but even more sharp. The eyes of a pirate that lusted after blood. He didn’t know what Vane wanted of him and it was perhaps the most frightening thing: he didn’t know how he was supposed to react. The captain held his hand, palm up, and examined the callous fingers and rough palms.

“You have strong hands. A good sailor, ain’t you? You must have spent a long time on the seas.”

Shivering, he snatched his hand away and glared at him. Testing his resistance like that… Without him realizing it, he growled, a low sound that rumbled in his chest.

“I know your secret, Billy”, Vane said, turning his bottle between his hands. “That’s quite dirty, uh.”

Billy felt his heart stop, his breathing halt, blood rushing down his face and leaving him as pale as death. Without even reflecting his actions, he grabbed Vane’s neck, pushing him in the sand, and strangled him. Rage contorted his face, his muscles flexing and his nerves tensing.

“How do you know? Is it Flint? Is he the one who told you?”

Vane, far from being angry and trying to fight back, burst out laughing.

“So it’s true. Even men as virtuous as you have their secrets, and from reaction, it has to be quite bad.”

Billy almost choked, brought him up and spit an angry “Fuck you” before getting up and striding to his tent. Vane sat up, laughing and massaging his bruising neck. It didn’t really think someone as trustworthy as Billy would have secrets dark enough to make him react this violently, and damn the man’s grip was strong. But now that he knew such a thing existed, he was more curious than ever. Something Flint knew… Flint seemed to know a lot of things, and at that moment he felt glad he had saved him back then in Charlestown. But for now, he didn’t felt like asking. It could wait, he decided.

 

He found Flint the following day, sitting at his desk on the Walrus. The man looked at him, a wary look in his eyes. Slowly, Vane strolled around and finally sat down in front of him.

“What do you want?” Flint asked, staring at him.  
“Billy’s secret.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, the red-head captain answered, looking back at his papers.  
“Don’t lie. When I said I knew his secret, he immediately thought you had betrayed him. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust you.”

Flint sighed.

“Billy is too emotional, but I don’t understand why you’d want to know his secrets. I can tell you it’s nothing useful.”  
“I bet it can be. I want him to be part of my crew. He’s wasting his potential with you.”

Flint smirked.

“You can’t use it as a threat. You have greater chances of convincing him without knowing it.”  
“You’re only making me more curious. I’ll discover what it is, even if you don’t tell me.”  
“Go on”, Flint said with a laugh, “he’ll hate you if you do, however.”  
“Why should I care if he likes me or not?” Vane retorted, “I only want him in my crew. Being loyal is all that matters and he is one of the most loyal men I ever met. He doesn’t like you either.”

Flint looked at him.

“I am the only one here capable of understanding his secret. Whatever you do, you’ll never be able to gain access to this part of him. It is useless.”  
“And why wouldn’t I?”  
“Because you’re too rash. You don’t know delicacy and sweetness, you only care about violence and harshness. You can’t understand someone like Billy. He has knowledge and a desire for it. Can you quench his thirst?”

Vane stared at him.

“Perhaps I don’t know about those things, but I was a slave myself. I know how it is. I know how it feels. As a freed man, I am the only one able to understand those shackles he carried around.”  
“His chains are heavier than you seem to think, Vane. Give up, it is no use.”

Vane snorted and stormed out. How could Flint be this irritating? It was beyond his comprehension. He arrived on the deck: Billy was here, sitting and making nooses. He looked up, perfect blue eyes filled of sun.

“What do you want?” he asked when Vane came closer.  
“I spoke with Flint. Never told me what you hide. I just want you to be part of my crew.”

Billy stared at him and stood up: he was now towering over him, broad and powerful, and Vane took the measure of the man once more. He was definitely a good fighter, but he had those beautiful features, those defined muscles and those incredible blue eyes. He frowned to himself: why was he detailing him that much?

“Is it all that you want?” Billy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Why could I possibly want from you if not that?” Vane asked, palms open to him.

Billy stepped closer, invading his space despite all prudence. Slowly, his huge form leaned forward until they were to eye level.

“I don’t know, and it is better that way. Stop bothering me, I’m fine on the Walrus.”  
“Do you think Flint cares about you?” Vane growled.  
“Because you would?” Billy asked with a smirk. “Don’t make me laugh. There is no reason why you would care about me. At least, Flint saved me and offered me a life as a pirate.”  
“You don’t trust your own captain, don’t you think it is time for you to change?”  
“And what makes you think I would trust you?”  
“I never lie”, Vane stated, leaning forward as well. “I don’t always say the whole truth, but I never lie.”

Their faces were close now, too close to Billy’s taste. Vane didn’t care that much, he could stare at the diffraction of light in Billy’s eyes and it was more fascinating than he would have thought. He saw a gleam in the quarter-master’s eyes, and felt something was changing. Something in the way Billy carried himself, that became even more dangerous. Their faces were now millimetres away from each other. _If I lean just a bit closer…_ Billy thought, shifting slightly his position. His lips barely brushed Vane’s, but he felt electricity running through his body and leaving him so _alive_. He was ready to back away, his long awaited prize as a memory. He knew this would keep Vane away from him, and he felt better it someone this dangerous was far from him.

What he hadn’t be ready for was the strong, rough and gentle hand that laid on his nape and pulled him closer as his lips smashed against Vane’s. Soft and dried lips, lightly creased, thin and desirable. They lit a fire in his whole body, and he automatically ceded to the pressure of Vane’s tongue. Passing his defence so easily. He parted his lips, accepting Vane’s invasion eagerly, meeting his tongue and biting his lips, violent and sweet.

His mind brutally took over control and he pushed Vane away violently, panting, wiping his lips with his forearm. This was wrong, this was dangerous, and this was exciting. Sparkles were running down his spine and Vane’s eyes had taken a feral glow.

“I see”, he simply said.

Billy went pale. It should have never happened, how could it have happened. And still, here they were. He had kissed Vane. _No_ , he thought, _I merely brushed his lips. He is the one who forced his way into my mouth. But I was the one who welcomed him._ Whatever, the facts were there: he had just kissed the fierce captain of the Ranger on the Walrus. What could be worse? He felt the need to walk away, to flee, somewhere, away from this man and the threat he represented. He didn’t move, not even daring to bat his eyes. Vane was still staring at him, and he didn’t know what was going through his mind.

Vane stepped closer once more, making him retreat – retreat until he couldn’t back down anymore, his back against the wooden railing. _I’m a dead man_ , he thought. He only had a dagger in his boot and he already knew how strong of a warrior Vane was. He could beat him in hand-on-hand combat, not in close combat with something as sharp as a dagger. Flint would come up the deck to find him dead, bathing in a pool of his own blood. There was no way Vane would not slit his throat open. Vane’s fists clenched on Billy’s shirt, pulling him down to his height.

“Now I know your secret”, he whispered with a smile.

Gathering his strength, he straightened and stared at him.

“And? What do you plan on doing? For what I know, you’re not better than me.”

Vane smirked.

“Convince you to join my crew, of course. It has been my goal from the start.”

Billy gave him a surprised look and tilted his head. He wasn’t as confident as he wished he looked, and the fact that Vane wasn’t actively trying to kill him was destabilizing him even more. He couldn’t understand what Charles wanted, nor anticipate what he was going to do, and it drove him mad. That his lips were still slightly moist and so close to him didn’t really help him to concentrate. He forced himself to look aside – but where? Those cunning, glowing eyes? Surely not.

“I will not. Why do you keep on insisting? I. Will. Not.”  
“What is it that you have here and don’t want to give up? I can surely give it to you. Tell me what it is.”  
“Charles”, Billy said, “listen to me.” He was more confident now that he knew what he had to answer. “My major quality is my loyalty, right?”

Vane nodded, finally listening to what the first-mate had to say.

“If I abandoned Flint now for you or for another captain, would I still be one of the most loyal men in Nassau?”

Vane stared at him. There was nothing he could retort to that. Billy was right, he would no longer be the Loyal Billy Bones if he changed sides now. No one remembered – or rather, no one knew – why Billy was so loyal to Flint, aside from the two of them and Vane. Sharing a past as slaves, Vane understood something strong bound him to Flint. But he had made himself alone, when Billy had been set free. This alone was a sufficient difference to drive them apart. They were different, but to the men, they were alike. _You’re right, they don’t see the difference between you and I_ , Vane had said. He sighed.

“You’re stubborn, you know.”  
“I’ve been told that already, yes”, Billy replied. “One of my best qualities.”  
“And a fault. Is there really no way I can convince you to become my first-mate?”  
“Absolutely none”, Billy stated, smiling despite him. “And I can assure you I am not someone you want on board.”

Once more, Vane stared at him. He reached out and Billy froze as his strong hand cupped his chin. This hand was dangerous and _definitely_ too close to his neck to his liking. Still, he didn’t move.

“Is it because of this?” he asked, his callous thumb rubbing Billy’s lips.

The blond first-mate nodded, hesitating between pushing him away and keeping him close – he was warm and strong, something sure to anchor to when Flint was slowly drifting away. He gulped when Vane’s eyes fell on his lightly parted lips. Where did everything have gone wrong? He didn’t know. Everything went wrong or became incongruous once Charles Vane was there.

“I don’t care”, he breathed almost against his lips, straining to be at his height.  
“The men do”, Billy retorted, willing to look away and founding himself incapable of doing so, entranced by Vane’s eyes.  
“I don’t”, Vane insisted, his hand tightening on his jaw. “I want the loyal, loved Billy Bones. What you do and what you don’t beside your duties as a pirate is not my problem.”  
“You say that now”, Billy said.  
“Why would I ever change?”  
“Because that’s what men do”, Billy stated.

He didn’t know yet how right it was.

 

His breathing stopped as his mind tried to process the pleasure. Those hands on his hips. Those lips, trailing along his spine. This hair gently tickling his nape. This breath, hot against his skin. This low voice whispering to him words that sparkled in his whole body. His teeth clenched on his own voice, unsteady and desire-filled as his arms gave up, letting his body rock on instinct.

It was so wrong. It was so good. He couldn’t even remember how it had come to this – him, accepting Vane and the painful pleasure he offered him. He only knew that he had failed at some point in keeping his mind to himself. It was dangerous, for so many reasons. And yet, he couldn’t help but like it. Whatever it was supposed to be.

There was desire, but it was something more than that. Something more than companionship. Something, in the way Vane’s rough hands stroke his body languorously, something in the shimmer of his eyes, something… there was something about him, every time Billy was around. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. But it pushed them to meet more than necessary. It pushed those tiny gestures – the brush of a hand, the light curve of a smile – and it only made them more confused.

And Vane was only insisting more to have him on board. He said it was because he was a good element. They both knew it was not the only thing. They both knew there was something more. A desire to protect. To conquer. To possess. They both knew it was only a matter of time before they burned themselves, but they still got closer and closer to the bonfire. It was burning, high and bright and warm, comforting and yet dangerous. And they kept trying to grab embers, not caring if they hurt themselves because it was the only way they knew to be close. Not caring that the burn would eventually stop, and that they would eventually scar. Not caring if they were marking each other – not even realizing how they were merging into one soul. Not realizing parting would be impossible. Painful. Not realizing parting would mean tear from each other.

 

Billy was breathing heavily. They had taken something that was part of him, and he hadn’t even known how big this missing part was. He was only realizing now, with his ragged breath, that they had taken one of his lungs. Not enough to kill him. If only they had. They had taken his heart, and replaced it by something… something beating painfully in his chest, something he only wanted to stop. Stop. Stop. Just stop the pain. His voice broke in a wail as he tried to recall _him_ – he was everywhere, burnt in his memories like a red mark, he was everywhere and yet he wasn’t _there_. Not anymore. Why did he have to suffer like this?

Don’t break down, he murmured once more. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he stared at his dagger. Would it be worth it? He had to make a choice. Live on, or die here.

_Get on with it, motherfucker._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment and everything. Because we'll never get over Charle's death.


End file.
